


But darling, love is passing by

by Createdforyou



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Barista!Sander, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, coffee shop AU, do i know what im doing? never
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:53:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29978346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Createdforyou/pseuds/Createdforyou
Summary: Robbe and the barista at the café bond while overhearing an interesting conversation.OR the one where Robbe tries to deal with the mortifying ordeal of being known
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 20
Kudos: 63





	But darling, love is passing by

**Author's Note:**

> HI! idk how this happened but here we are haha. I found number 7 on [this](https://creativepromptsforwriting.tumblr.com/post/643207654801653760/coffee-shop-aus) prompt list and...yeah lol. But i hope you enjoy!
> 
> Note: [the cafe doesnt have a name bc i dont have braincells (maybe later tho) and Aaron hasnt been introduced to the broerrrs yet]  
> title is inspired from blue by fjord

“This is what you think I want? It’s like you don’t even know me,” he heard a loud and snide voice.

_ Wow _ , thought Robbe as he sat in the small café surrounded by a few remaining people and was disrupted by this sudden outburst. It wasn’t exactly an outburst since the couple that sat two tables away from him were quite loud from the moment they came in: a lanky boy with sandy, curly hair and a shorter girl with thin, blonde hair and icy blue eyes. Robbe had been on his laptop typing away, his fingers almost getting a spasm with how fast he was going, and every so often, he’d hear pieces of their conversation. He’d tried to remain focused, tugging the red beanie on his dark curls and sinking further into his seat, but it did no good, still pulling him out of his thoughts. Thanks to them, he’d almost twice knocked over the coffee beside him  _ and  _ accidentally kicked over his skateboard that he had laid near his feet, receiving stares from some others still lingering in the shop. 

It was pretty empty by now, the large windows by the side reflecting city lights in the night, and most people were gone with it nearing closing time, but this couple sat there, unaware of how noisy they were being. Robbe wouldn't be surprised if they were the ones that drove everyone away. How he wished he didn’t forget his headphones at home right now. 

He sighed, sinking even further into his seat and leaning both of his legs outward to relieve the ache in his butt from sitting so long, the zipper of his brown jacket clinking onto the side of the chair. He then grabbed a hold of his unfinished coffee. It was cold by now as he could no longer feel the warmth it had once radiated and his thumbnail scraped the recycled paper wrapped around the cup as he stared distractedly at the label, his name etched on it. He’d ordered it to go, but the barista that had taken his order put a damper on his plans, causing him to make a split-second decision in the midst of all the people sitting here a while ago. Caused him to change his mind, making him contemplate and think,  _ hmmm, maybe I want to stay for a bit.  _

The thing was, Robbe had been flustered. When he had first walked up to that counter, he had every intention of minding his own business, of getting coffee, in and out, and just going about his day like he normally would. Except as soon as he’d seen the barista he didn’t know what he wanted anymore. He’d already been anxiously memorizing and chanting his order inside his head, but all the words had left him, vanishing in a hazy cloud inside his mind. He was some mix of tired and nervous when he looked up to see alluring green eyes, gleaming and glinting with crinkles from a charming smile. Not to mention the brightly bleached hair that shined like moonlight dripping under the warm café lights. He was attractive, that much he couldn’t deny, but now Robbe just desperately wanted to get his coffee and to try to bury the internal breakdown he was having at the sight of him, nonchalance and casualness returning.

So, after he’d somehow managed to stutter an order (a medium caramel macchiato with two shots of espresso), his heartbeat slowed from the rush of having to socially interact with a person and he’d walked by with his laptop and skateboard settling down at a table. Unfortunately at the table right by this couple. And they  _ still  _ seemed to be arguing.

“Listen, I know I’m really bad at figuring out what you want, but the least you can do is be appreciative,” the boy said defensively. 

Robbe internally sighed once again. At this point, he should just give up and go home. 

But see, the other thing was, every time this couple argued loud enough to say something worth tuning into, the barista made eye-contact with Robbe, checking and making sure he wasn’t crazy and that Robbe was in this mental torture just as much as he was. It was green eyes glancing over at brown ones and hiding small smiles, some sort of inside joke forming between them. 

“Oh, I should be appreciative of the dick pic you sent a while ago,  _ unsolicited  _ might I remind you, completely unwanted?” the girl snapped back at her boyfriend. 

At these words, the expression Robbe had made and the expression the barista made seemed to be one and the same. One of widened eyes and tightly pursed lips, scandalized and taken aback.  _ Oop.  _

_ Maybe this was one of those bonding experiences _ , thought Robbe. The kind where you find yourself with a stranger in some odd and curious situation and you spend a couple moments getting through it together. The barista leaned closer on his counter, trying to listen now. 

“Hey, I said I was sorry,” the boy leaned back in his seat with a sigh. “Are you never gonna let it go?”

“Consent is important, Aaron,” the girl said. 

“I know and I agree. I’m just wondering how the conversation got to  _ this _ ,” he told her with a confused look on his face. 

The girl took a breath and released it as her shoulders sunk. 

“Not knowing what I want isn’t the problem,” she said calmly now. “It’s the fact that you don’t even try. We go over this every two weeks and I want some effort in this relationship,” she clarified. 

Robbe looked over at the barista who just seemed to give an accepting shrug with his eyes half-closed and a tilt of his head. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll put more effort in,” said the boy named Aaron. “But Amber, I’d still like some appreciation once in a while,” he told her.  _ Amber, that sounds familiar,  _ thought Robbe. And upon closer inspection of her face, he finally recognized her as his roommate’s friend, someone he hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk to whenever she’d be introduced to him. 

“Okay,” Amber finally muttered quietly. 

“Okay,” mumbled Aaron. 

There was a strange silence hanging in the air now, especially with these two having argued so loudly and for so long before. The tension in their voices eased and they seemed to be tired of this conversation. With nothing more to say and their coffee and pastries untouched, they slowly got up to put on their coats, and while they’d been in a lover’s quarrel just moments before, they still walked hand-in-hand out of the café, the bell above the door ringing loudly. 

_ Finally.  _

Robbe looked back at the screen on his laptop and thought about how it was getting late and how he should really pack up, but some fatigued part of him almost didn’t want to. And as he sat there still sunken in his seat, he heard a voice speak up. 

“So, that got resolved,” it said. 

Robbe whipped his head to see that it was coming from the barista, his eyes shining and his smile on the border of awkwardly timid and teasing. 

“Yeah,” he croaked out. Then, he cleared his throat, not quite believing that this pretty barista was talking to him _.  _ “Thank God,” he said more clearly. The cafe was completely empty now, save for the two of them, and Robbe was thinking that while this ‘bonding experience’ was great and everything, he should really get home and finish his work. As he started putting his laptop in his bag, bending over, his muscles felt sore and stiff from sitting with bad posture all this time and his eyelids were drooping already. Picking up his skateboard, he made his way over to the barista. 

“Sorry, can I actually get another to-go?” 

He winced through the request as he knew it was late and the barista was probably wanting his shift to be over so he could go home just like Robbe. However, he nodded, his bleached hair shaking, and Robbe didn’t miss the way he’d remembered his order amidst all the ones he had to take today.

“You know, relationships are overrated,” the barista told him while walking over to the espresso machine. Robbe had to give a hint of a smile as a thought crossed his mind.

“You sound like my friend,” he said. “He says things like ‘sex is overrated’” he laughed, but then suddenly realized that was such a weird thing for him to say.  _ He’s talking about relationships and you’re talking about-?  _ It’s like his brain was on autopilot now, way too tired to function properly. He heard the barista snort, though. 

“That too,” he agreed. 

“Then what’s left? No sex, no relationships…”

“ _ Friends _ and  _ family _ ,” his green eyes sparkled even more now. Robbe tried not flinch at the word ‘family.’ 

“Right…” he said, his thoughts veering from the actual conversation a bit. When the barista finished with his coffee, handing him the cup, Robbe didn’t have the reflexes to take it from his hand. He was too busy eyeing how good he looked in his uniform, a white polo shirt with a black apron. 

_ Damn, he looks hotter up close.  _

His reflexes did eventually catch up and he took the cup from him, getting out change for the payment. 

“Oh, no,” he heard him say. “It’s on the house. Especially after witnessing all  _ that _ ,” he tilted his head toward the door, referring to the couple. 

He flashed Robbe a smile that made him melt. He was actually melting, overflowing into a pile of goo, his lips subconsciously mimicking that same smile back at him. Then, he realized he was probably standing there like an idiot for far too long and cleared his throat again.

“Uh, sorry, it’s time for you to close. I’m just gonna- I-“ he stuttered through the words. “Thanks,” he ended up muttering with a tight smile. As he turned around to leave, having the door half open already while that rusty golden bell sounded, he heard him say one more thing. 

“We’re open tomorrow, too.” Robbe turned back to see him with a lopsided smile on his face, sensing that he probably hadn’t wanted to leave just yet. “And the day after that. And the day after that. And the day after that.”

Giving him another slow smile and a short nod, Robbe finally headed out of the café. 

The cold wind picked up at the ends of his hair and the leaves rustled in the trees nearby. It was an interesting day with conversations and coffee and couples arguing. But as he walked towards his bike and pedaled three-quarters of the way home, his legs hating him for expending this much energy, he felt his stomach drop with a disappointed twist. 

He wished he knew the barista’s name. 

He hadn’t even thought to read his name tag. Wasn’t even sure if he had one. 

But he gradually relaxed because just as the barista had said, they were open tomorrow.

* * *

He hadn’t made it to that café again. 

Unfortunately. he didn’t seem to have the time the past three days, settling for coffee from the coffeemaker at home instead, caught up in his studies and chores and filming for his friends’ YouTube vlogs. It didn’t mean that the barista wasn’t on his mind, though. That day had played through his head multiple times, sometimes at outrageously random times, replaying over and over again evoking small smiles he had to stifle and some fluttering in his chest from the way he looked at him. He couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. His eyes were so captivating, his calm and easy aura running through Robbe in a chilling way.

He’d cringe every once in a while remembering what he’d said in their conversation, hating himself for being so awkward sometimes and wondering how a person can be so charming. But somewhere in all that cringe and stumbled awkwardness, he’d felt a connection. Every time his green eyes laid on him as that couple argued, it was like the universe connecting their thoughts, some silent conversation happening as if, for some brief moment, they could read each other’s minds, that they could-

“Robbe?” a voice broke him out of his trance. 

Robbe found himself back at his flat, sitting on the couch next to his friend, Jens. 

“Are you with me?” he smirked, his black hair falling into his eyes, brows dragging up teasingly. Robbe had lost his train of thought completely and he was now getting the annoyingly embarrassing feeling of being caught not paying attention. He tugged on the sleeve of his black sweater. 

“Sorry,” he shook his head. “What were you saying?” 

Jens just leaned back on the couch, his arm draping over the back of it, grey hoodie wrinkling in the process. He gave him a chastised look and proceeded to talk. 

“I was  _ saying _ ,” he took a moment to emphasize for Robbe, “That this next vlog should be something different, something revolutionary. What do you think?”

Robbe’s brain tried to come up with an answer, but in all honesty he really wasn’t in it right now. 

“That our vlogs are the best and we don’t need to change a thing,” his other friend, Moyo, piped up from the couch across from them. He sat in his red sweatshirt and his legs spread in his black sweats with a bag of chips in hand. He seemed oddly more focused in stuffing as many as he could inside his mouth than this meeting they were having to discuss their plans for the next vlog on the broerrrs YouTube channel. 

To Robbe, this channel was some dumb thing they’d started in high school, blowing off steam and de-stressing with ideas for a new video, but it had somehow bled into their uni years and it became something Jens and Moyo actually wanted to take seriously. Ever since they’d reached more than one thousand subscribers, they’d actually made it their part-time job and while they’d asked Robbe to get a part of the cut, he wasn’t exactly interested in continuing with it, staying behind the scenes instead. However, he stuck with it for the money and to pay half of his part of the rent for this flat. 

The other half of his part? That was paid for by his father, a man Robbe spent quite some time avoiding, silencing his calls and diverting his mother’s pleas to have at least a decent conversation with him. He tried to shake all of those thoughts out. 

“Maybe we can go to some place we haven’t gone before? Or teach skateboarding tricks to our viewers?” he asked, finally getting his creative juices flowing. 

“I said revolutionary, Robbe, not a tutorial for some amateur kiddie skateboarders at the park,” Jens’ face dropped. As he said this, the door to the flat opened in the background and Robbe heard keys jingling in his periphery while a delicate figure walked up to them in the living room.

“Hey,” said Zoë, his roommate, a brilliant girl with platinum hair and burning red lips, shiny earrings dangling in the light. Robbe knew her in high school, too, but they hadn’t really gotten a chance to get to know each other until he moved into the flat with her and Milan, another roommate, a few months ago. The boys all greeted her in unison as she looked down at the papers in her small hands. “There’s mail for you,” she smiled briefly at Robbe, waving the envelope.”I’ll put these in your room.”

He nodded at her and as she turned to leave, Moyo pulled at her sleeve. 

“I’m out of chips, but I saw you guys have more in the pantry,” he looked up at her with beady eyes. 

“Okay,” she drawled, eyes darting to the side, head shaking slightly. “Get them yourself, I’m not your waitress,” she pulled her arm away from him, rolling her eyes and walking down the hall. 

“Aw, come on Zoë, don’t be like that,” he called after her which, to his dismay, he got no response. 

Robbe smiled to himself a bit. It was always entertaining watching Moyo interact with a girl. Whether it was some flirtatious routine, some pickup line he was ready to spring or just asking for a favour with that obnoxiously boyish tone in his voice, he was consistently getting rejected with a snarky quip. Robbe hoped he would grow out of it soon. He knew that Moyo had the ability to be mature when he wanted to be, but for some reason, it seemed easier for him to pretend he hadn’t moved past his high school days. 

He heard Jens snicker from beside him. 

“Fuck, don’t be so lazy,” he told Moyo. “Just get your chips, come back and tell me if we try something new for the vlog or not,” he ordered him.

Moyo blew out a breath and groaning, he dragged himself up from the couch, slowly making his way toward the kitchen. There was silence as the sounds of him shuffling around came through and then he walked back with leisurely steps, opening his second bag of chips. 

“We’re doing fine with the views anyways,” he said with his mouth already full. “Besides viewers tune in for the same thing, for our brand. I say we stick to the status quo,”

“Viewers might also want change once in a while,”said Robbe. “We can always announce we’re trying something new and if they don’t like it, we go back to the way it was,” he suggested, shrugging. 

That felt a strange thing for Robbe to say when he was usually the last person in this world to want something like change. But some part of him thought if it weren’t for change, he wouldn’t be living here in this flat while his mother was back in an institution again and his father was off elsewhere doing God knows what for whatever reason. Well, there was a reason. One that Robbe refused to understand. 

“So, what I’m getting from all of this is, neither of you can decide if we do something different or stay the same. Great. Productive meeting guys,” Jens’ tone dripped sardonically. 

Robbe shook his head, smiling at him. 

“Relax, dude. We’ll figure it out. It’ll be something better than ‘tutorials for amateur kiddie skateboarders’,” he chuckled. Jens scrunched his nose at him.  _ Ha, ha.  _ Then, he snapped his fingers remembering something.

“Oh, by the way, speaking of skateparks, can you make it for Saturday? We have this guy we want you to meet. His name’s Aaron,” said Jens. Robbe’s head whipped up at that name. It couldn’t be the same one he’d seen at the cafe. This was probably some weird coincidence. But Jens went on.

“His girlfriend might come, too. No promises, though, they had like a ‘fight’ or something a few days ago. He’s giving her time to chill out.”

“Is... Is his girlfriend’s name Amber by any chance?” Robbe asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, something like that,” Jens nodded. “Why?”

Robbe gave him and Moyo a suppressed smile, lips pursing as he shook his leg, wondering if he should say something. 

_ You’ll never believe the conversation I’d overheard _ , is what he wanted to say. But it was best not to and it wasn’t any of their business anyway. 

“No reason,” he said.

And as he sat there in between his friends continuing their fussing over the vlogs, he couldn’t help but immediately think of the barista and what  _ he _ would think if he found out. If Robbe ever made it to that café again, that would definitely be the conversation starter, something he’d have an excuse to talk to him for, but he figured even then, he’d keep to himself.

Then, he thought about the chances of all this happening, people and events intertwining like that. 

And thought about how the universe sometimes worked in small, intricate ways, connecting them all together. 

* * *

Standing in line on a Wednesday morning was the hardest thing for Robbe to do at the moment. He wasn’t sure why his palms were so sweaty and why his heart was anxiously beating so fast or why the fact that his schoolbag kept slipping off his shoulders annoyed him so deeply as he tried to take a breath and get his order ready. 

Or maybe… 

It had everything to do with the fact that he was finally back at this aroma-filled café and he had been imagining and rehearsing in his mind exactly what he was going to say to the barista when he saw him again. And the fact that there might be a good chance the barista wasn’t even working here today and he’d completely missed his chance when he indirectly told him to come back.

_ Get it together, Robbe. _

It was hard enough trying to order coffee on a normal day, he didn’t need to be so nervous about a really good-looking barista with pretty eyes and pretty hair.  _ Fuck, who has such pretty hair.  _

Keeping his order in mind, he took a step closer to the counter as the line moved forward. 

“Hey,” the barista greeted him when it was his turn. “Told you we were open the next day and the day after that and the day after that.” 

He couldn’t believe he was here and that he’d remembered him. That was a miracle in and of itself given the time frame between his last visit. 

“Yeah, I’m aware of how cafés work,” Robbe smiled at him. “Can I get a medium caramel macchiato with two espresso shots to-go?” he said, astonished he was able to order so clearly and smoothly this time. 

“Robbe right?” the barista asked as he punched in the order. 

_ And he’d even remembered his name.  _

“Right,” he said. Then he tried to get a closer look at his name tag while he took out his card to pay. “You don’t, uh, you don’t look like a Léon,” he stumbled through the words, already unsure if he should say them when they were halfway out of his mouth. The barista snorted once again and Robbe thought to himself that maybe that snort was something that could grow on him. 

“It’s because I’m not,” he said. “It’s getting fixed, though. I'll get a proper name tag in a couple of days,” he explained. Then he blinked his eyes up at Robbe from his touchscreen, giving him that weird feeling of being seen coursing through his veins, and he smiled.

“I’m Sander.”

_ Sander _ .

It was a nice name. Common. Rolled right off the tongue. 

Sander moved to the back to get his coffee ready and he seemed to be the only one working today. Either that or his co-worker was on break. The morning rush had slowed down as there was no one else in line behind Robbe and while he took his phone out to check his messages, Sander gave him a look with his lips curving. 

“No arguing couples today,” he said. 

Robbe’s head snapped up at that, his dark curls flopping.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Funny story actually and what a small world, but I think I’m meeting with them this weekend,” his lips threw back the same smile at him. 

“Oh, fun,” said Sander, his eyebrows raising as he turned the espresso machine on, the whirring surrounding them. After getting the two shots in his cup he turned to him. “Depending on your definition of fun.”

“I don’t really know what to expect,” Robbe shrugged. 

There was a moment of silence as he watched Sander finish making his coffee, a certain attentiveness to the task at hand. He came over with the paper cup, Robbe’s name written delicately on the sleeve, and he looked at him with sparkling eyes. 

“As long as there’s no dick pics involved, I think you’ll be fine,” he winked. 

_ That was an attack.  _ A brutal one.

Never had a wink made Robbe a mess of a heart beating rapidly, throwing him off balance and short-circuiting the nerves inside his brain. No boy had ever done that, not even the ones he’d dated. There was something tingling in the pits of his stomach, but it was fine. He was fine. 

Robbe gave him a slight chuckle at the joke, trying not let his chest tighten. He tried to focus on the smell of the coffee, drifting into his nose strongly from the cup he held, and the music that played from the speakers, softly washing over the entire cafe. Just as he was about to leave and the song had ended, the next one started and he heard Sander let out a low and excited gasp. 

“Under pressure,” he said as the beginning bass riff went on. 

And Robbe’s feet stayed planted by the counter unable to move as he saw Sander dance at the lyrics, shaking his head while his hair fell into the green eyes that sparked with passion. His smile spread slowly, lips curling, his teeth shining bright. 

“David Bowie,” Sander continued at the look on Robbe’s face. “You know him?”

“Uh, sort of,” Robbe said. 

“He’s like, one of the best musicians out there. He’s got so many great hits and he’s not just a musician, he could mime and stuff and he’s like...like...God, I can’t even explain it,” he let out a breathy laugh. Robbe kept his eyes on him while he threw away stray pieces of receipts and napkins. 

“So, Bowie, huh. That’s your thing?” Robbe asked. 

“I have a lot of things,” said Sander. “But that’s one of them, yeah. Though, I’m gonna let you go now, ‘cause it looks like you’ve got places to be and if I start talking about Bowie, I’ll never stop,” his laugh came out halfway insecure. 

Robbe stood there taking him in. All that energy of being interested in something, of being  _ into  _ something was making him intrigued. He wasn’t sure if that made him more attractive. Not attractive in the conventional sense this time, but in the way that would actually attract someone to him, make them want to talk to him, get to know him. 

“No, uh…” he started, and he wasn’t exactly sure where he was going with that sentence as he swallowed briefly, licking his lips. “I mean, yeah I do have to get going,” he said as his morning class was going to start soon, “But you can talk to me about Bowie anytime you want.”

The look that Sander gave him was enough to make him melt into a puddle again. It was a strange feeling Robbe couldn’t grasp. He kept his eyes on him for a few seconds more. 

“That’s good to know,” he finally said, smiling. It made Robbe smile, too.

“I’ll see you around, Sander,” he said, trying out his name on the tip of his tongue. 

“See you, Robbe,” he said. 

As Robbe exited the cafe, the smell of coffee reducing in intensity, he couldn’t help thinking about Sander’s smile and his welcoming eyes. His aloofness and casualness was fading away each time he talked to him. He came to know a lot more about this barista than he intended and he was liking what he was getting to know. 

And no matter how much he may not want to admit it, this feeling was settling into his bones. It was seeping through the cracks, evading darkness through the decay, where seeds of rejuvenating greens could slowly and surely grow.

* * *

He was late. Hewaslatehewaslatehewaslatehewaslate. 

He was running around his room, smelling shirts to check for cleanliness and finally zipping up his jeans, looping his belt with the metal jangling and all his thoughts were in a panicked rush. He quickly combed his fingers through his soft hair and even though he had brushed his teeth, he breathed into his hand, checking for morning breath that could still be lingering. On his way out, he banged his toe against the small table that lay on the side of his bed, causing the glass of whiskey he’d drank the night before to topple over, the remaining liquid dripping to the floor.

“Ow, shit, fuck,” he cursed. 

Righting the glass, he threw one of his shirts to the floor near the spill. That would have to do for now to soak up the mess. Then, he finally slung his bag on his shoulder and made his way out. He didn’t even make it past the kitchen without Zoë calling out for him. 

“Hey, Robbe, where are you off to in such a hurry?” she said as she took out a yogurt cup from the fridge. 

He peeked his head back in to find her in a baby-blue blouse, hair immaculately straight and lips coloured an undeniable shade of red. Her brown eyes were warm and as much as Robbe wanted to give into this conversation, he. was. running. late. 

“Zoë please, I’ve got class, we'll talk later,” he said. 

“Oh, really? Are you going to class or are you going to that café again?” her voice had the slightest hint of a tease. Robbe’s eyes shifted to the ceiling, an almost guilty look since he’d been caught. He  _ was  _ going to the café and his Evolution and Genetics class wasn’t for another thirty minutes, but if he wanted coffee beforehand, he wouldn’t make it if he was being held back like this. 

“I just really need my caffeine fix before class. As much I’d love to learn about evolution and ‘all the things that make us, us’” he quoted his professor, “ _Some_ _people_ are really prone to falling asleep during the lecture,” he told her. His bag was slinging off his shoulder again. Couldn’t this thing just ever stay on right?

Zoë gave a small laugh at that. 

“Alright, well, I still think you should eat something before you go,” she said, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. Robbe wasn’t used to that. Three months into living in this flat and he wasn’t used to people caring about him, caring  _ for  _ him. It made his heart clench a bit, a warmth flowing through him. But it was blown away by some imaginary wind, covering him in frost when he thought about the fact that this was all temporary. That this living arrangement was temporary and so were most of the people in his life. 

“I’ll get something from the café,” he said quietly. 

Zoë looked up from the drawer she was now opening to get a spoon for her yogurt. 

“ _ Coffee _ is not breakfast,” she said incredulously. Her face made his lips stretch thin. 

“You know there are other things at a café besides coffee. They’ve got croissants and tea biscuits and pastries and-”

“Morning, babes,” a chipper voice interrupted him. It was Milan, his other roommate, dashing and free, walking into the kitchen with his tall stature almost making him bump into the upper frame of the entrance. His brown hair was quite fluffy and tousled and he wore a button shirt that could blind most people with the design on it. 

“You’re up early,” said Zoë, giving him a raise of her eyebrow. 

“Yoga routine,” Milan said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world and opened the cupboard to get a glass for water. 

“Oh, is this like that time you said you were trying a morning cleanse, woke up for it the first day and then never again?” teased Robbe, his lips forming into a smirk. Milan gave him a look as he filled his glass and turned the tap off. 

“I think we should all focus on the fact that I’m up for trying new things and that when I don’t like them,” he sipped his water. “I stop trying.”

This got quiet laughs from Zoë who Robbe knew was holding back on saying ‘waking up is not a new thing’ and from Robbe himself, who had almost forgotten about his sour mood in being late. He pulled out his phone to look at the time. 08:37.

“Fuck, I’m still late.  _ Zoë _ ,” Robbe shot her a look. She just shrugged apologetically as Robbe shook his head and hastily walked towards the door.

“Make sure you buy a croissant!” she called out after him while he groaned and finally shut the door to the flat.

Pedalling as fast as he could to the café, he panted through the streets with colouring leaves blowing in the air. The sky covered him in a dim grey and he was pretty sure his hair was a mess as it flew in all directions in the wind. There was probably no way he’d make it for his 09:00 class on time now, but as he kept pedaling on his bike, he found that he didn’t really care. So, he eased off and took his time trying to control his breathing so he wouldn’t be a  _ complete _ wreck when he’d show up at the cafe. 

He stood in line, still nervously rehearsing his order. No matter how many times he’d ordered the same thing before, this was just one thing he was never going to stop fretting about. But when he’d moved up the line, looking for a bleached blonde barista, he’d instead been met with a girl with a slim and hollowed face, her brown hair tied back in a ponytail, a dissatisfied feeling falling into him. 

_ Okay. So, maybe he wasn’t here just for the coffee. _

But off to the side, he found Sander working away on the orders. For a second, Robbe thought he wouldn’t be getting a chance to talk to him today, but his green eyes lifted up to see him as he ran whipped cream in a cup and poured a bottle of chocolate syrup on it.

“I can take that,” he told his co-worker. She looked at him confused and suspicious.

“But I’m already here,” she pointed at the register. 

“I’ve got it, Lena, just pour the freaking syrup on this, will you?” Sander muttered under his breath, holding out the bottle that already had sticky syrup oozing out.  _ Lena  _ surrendered her hands as if something like this had happened before and made her way to grab the bottle while Sander moved to get a cup from the back. It amused Robbe a little, watching him fumble to take his order, but some part of him still wasn’t sure about his fumbling as Sander had a light and airy, casual tone to his voice. It was something he couldn’t really put his finger on. 

“Here’s your usual,” Sander held out the cup for him, the mouth sealed off to keep it hot. And now he was completely taken aback, frozen and a little tongue-tied, that he’d thought to get his order ready before he came in, that he’d even know the certain time that he came in. 

“Do I have a usual?” is what Robbe ended up saying, his eyes squinting halfway through the nerves.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” Sander shrugged. It was true that by now Robbe had ordered the same thing three times and he had already memorized that order the first day but,

“What if I wanted something else,” Robbe’s lips curved up at him. Sander took the time to slowly blink, cat-like and teasingly affectionate, and a smirk appeared on his face. 

“Then I’d  _ make _ you something else,” he said. 

_ Oh. Right.  _

“Do you want me to?” he asked with genuineness, his eyes sparkling at him again. 

“Uh, no that’s fine,” Robbe stumbled over his words again. He was really tired of him having that effect on him. (As in he’d never get tired of it at all). “But I could order a croissant too, if that’s alright,” he said, heeding Zoë’s words. Sander nodded, setting his cup down and leaned down to the side where the pastries and snacks were displayed in the glass encasing. He carefully placed the croissant in a brown paper bag and handed it to him. 

“Thanks. This is really nice of you,” he smiled, as he tipped his cup of coffee.

Sander moved his shoulders up, his lips curving in an over-exaggerated way on his face. “I know, I’m just  _ so nice _ ,” he said. Then as Robbe paid, he seemed to remember something. “Oh! Before you go,” he leaned over the counter to take out a pamphlet, his slender fingers curving between the pages that were sitting on the side near the register. “We’re having a documentary night this Saturday. I mean, we do this like every two weeks, but this one’s a Bowie one and I thought that maaaybe” -he paused to flash him a smile and hand it to him-”you’d like to know more about the man whose music gives me wet dreams at night,” his lips ended in a smirk. 

Robbe was pretty sure he was feeling heat rise on his cheeks just then. How was he able to just say these things in front of people without a care? But he still let out a low laugh, taking the paper from him. He took a moment to look at the nicely imposed picture of David Bowie and the curve of the font that read ‘Documentary Night.’ It was on a Saturday, though, the same day he had to meet Aaron at the skatepark. But if this was at night, he could definitely make it work. 

“Yeah, sure,” he said. 

“Yeah?” Sander raised his eyebrows, hopeful. “You don’t have to if you don’t wa-”

“No, I-yeah, I’ll be here,” Robbe nodded vigorously with a slow smile fitting across his face just like Sander. He nodded his head slightly too, his emerald eyes dipping down, nearing a sheepish look. 

“I’ll see you here, then,” he lightly tapped his knuckles on the dark wooden counter. 

* * *

Robbe twirled the pen in his fingers that night, the palm of his other hand lazily on his cheek, stretching out the skin as it dug deeper. 

He was having a hard time concentrating on this lecture of the pieces of evidence that support evolution. It’s not that it was hard information, just five basic concepts that he’d planned to get through tonight, but something in the air wasn’t letting him focus. Something in the molecules of his blood, in the vibrating atoms of his leg shaking. He heard laughter floating into the halls and as he was getting restless, he decided to seek out what all the fun was about. 

He walked down the hall to Zoë’s room where the laughs grew louder and he peeked his head in through the door where she sat with Milan on her bed. The string of lights hung above her bed lit up the room in a yellow glow and the smooth and pliable sheets of the bed seemed very comfortable. They both had a glass of wine in hand and their chuckles slowed as they saw Robbe. He gave them a smile. 

“Looks like you’re having a good time,” he said. 

“Hey!” exclaimed Zoë. “Come join us, I’m just laughing at Milan.”

“ _ With _ . You’re laughing with me,” he corrected. “Also, it’s not every day I go on some disaster date with a guy.”

Zoë shook her head at that, a hum escaping her lips from the sip she took of her wine. 

“Hmmm- not true. Almost every date you go on is a disaster, otherwise you wouldn’t come complaining to me,” she said. Milan just stuck out his hand at her and rolled his eyes. Robbe laughed at the exchange, still standing at the doorway awkwardly. It made Milan turn to him with his dark eyes warm and amicable. 

“Well, what are you standing there for? Come sit and let us know about  _ your  _ horrible dates,” he waved his hand over to him. 

This made Robbe smile even harder as he tilted his head back, shy and timid. 

“Ah, I still need to get some studying done for class,” he said. 

“Boo, you’re no fun,” pouted Zoë. “Though I should get started on my linguistics essay, too,” she sighed heavily. She sunk into her sheets with her shoulders hunched and a discontented look. 

“Oh, Zoë Loockx getting too distracted by her boyfriend to start an essay. That’s something you don’t see every day,” Milan teased as Zoë shot daggers with her eyes. “Don’t give me that look, you have been spending way too much time at Senne’s apartment last week,” he laughed. 

Senne, who Robbe had learned Zoë had been dating for quite some time now, had a penthouse suite in a high-rise apartment. He’d only been there once or twice in the spring but it was nice. Like really nice. Because the other thing about Senne was that he was really  _ rich _ . And while Robbe wasn’t sure how someone like Zoë had ended up with someone like him, he saw the way he had looked at her, eyes adorned with charm and tenderness and love. He had tried to imagine something like that in his life and the more and more he did, the more and more he found he couldn’t. He just had a hard time getting close to people, even with his friends and even now, here with his roommates. 

“Robbe,  _ please _ sit down, you’re stressing me out just standing there,” said Zoë, patting the empty spot next to her. 

He gave her a slight laugh. He wasn’t so sure about sitting down and talking about...whatever Zoë and Milan talk about: boys, dating, healthy eating, or whatever. He just liked to keep to himself and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to contribute much to the conversation anyway. 

“I...really need to get studying, though,” he finally said. “But I should also let you guys know I’ll be back late this Saturday, so I won’t be able to help out with dinner.”

Milan squinted his eyes at him jokingly.

“Hot date?”

“Very hot,” Robbe played along, closing his eyes and nodding with a smirk. He was ignoring that nagging feeling inside his chest and the thoughts at the back of his head.  _ Was it really a date? _ Because while Sander was this remarkably charming and interesting guy, his conversations with him were always on the edge of flirtatious and friendly. He couldn’t decide which one Sander meant. Couldn’t decide which one he wanted him to mean. 

“Something to do with someone at the café?” Zoe teased him in a sing-song voice, her eyes brightening at him. 

“How do you even know about this café?” Robbe asked her. 

“Amber told me she saw you there,” she answered as-a-matter-of-factly. “She said you’re supposed to meet her and Aaron this Saturday, too, though she might sit this one out. But I hope you guys have fun. And you on your date, too.”

“It’s not a date,” Robbe deadpanned. 

“Robbe, the second you say that it’s not a date, you’ve already lost,” Milan sipped his glass of wine. Robbe shot him a look. 

“I’m leaving,” he said, playfully rolling his eyes as Zoë and Milan laughed at him. 

As he walked down the hall, something rushed through him, twisting and turning and filling him up, buzzing through his nerves and making his brain already anxious about Saturday. Future possibilities conjuring up in his head that he tried to shake out.  _ Calm down, Robbe. You’re gonna meet with Aaron, then you’re gonna meet with Sander. _

_ Then, you’re gonna come home  _

_ And you’re gonna go on with life as usual.  _

* * *

For some reason, Robbe thought that Sander would smell like coffee. 

He didn’t though. 

While the strong scent of coffee did still carry through the entire café, he smelled faintly of fresh laundry off of the white t-shirt he wore and a musky cologne off of the black leather jacket clad on him. That’s all Robbe could think about sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with him in the seats arranged in rows for the documentary. He was all he could think about all day. 

He’d met with Aaron earlier at the skatepark just like Jens said, under the shade of burnt auburn and orange leaves that had easily swayed in the wind, drifting and carefree, much like the boys he greeted, and the whole exchange had been quite easy-going and chill. Aaron, Robbe found, was a pretty cool dude. He was funny and had a “unique quality that could be brought to the vlogs” as Jens had said. Robbe didn’t know the meeting was about adding him to the vlogs, but he didn’t really mind. That was not exactly the concern that had been floating around in his head. Because with every passing minute, every joke Moyo had made, every comment Jens had made, every faded conversation, his mind was stuck on a certain bleached blonde, making him coffee and sweeping him into light-hearted conversation. 

But now that he was sitting here next to Sander out of uniform on his day-off, in a new and unfamiliar scene, he didn’t know what to do with himself. 

It was so unlike him to just agree to an outing with...a stranger?...an acquaintance? He was having a hard time figuring out what Sander was, but the look on his face when he’d asked him threw him off guard. It was hopeful and inviting and it was a face that Robbe just couldn’t say no to. But, he wasn’t regretting it. And when the lights dimmed and the projector displayed high above the wall started playing “Finding Fame,” the third instalment in a trilogy of Francis Whatley’s “Five Years” and “Five Years Later,” he sunk into comfort beside Sander. 

“I have a confession to make,” he heard Sander as they stood by the snacks and refreshment table after the documentary. Robbe adjusted the hood of his blue hoodie under his brown jacket and turned to look at him with a chocolate chip cookie in hand. The atmosphere clung thick to them with rich smells of baked goods and coffee and hot chocolate, and the murmurs of all the people surrounding them made Sander’s voice sound even deeper, ashen and washed out in all the others. 

“So, I’ve actually watched this documentary like four times already, but I wasn’t gonna miss a chance to watch it again because it’s appealing and fascinating and I may be just a tad bit obsessed with David Bowie,” Sander pinched the air, squinting one eye. 

Robbe let out a relieved laugh not really knowing what his confession would’ve been. 

“I meant it when I said you could talk to me about Bowie,” he said. Sander’s eyes were splashed with gratitude, the slightest wrinkle in the corners from the smile he held.

“I just think he’s really cool and iconic and I realized that none of this makes sense to you because you came in for the last one,” he said as he grabbed a cookie as well. “ _ However _ , you’ve only started coming to this cafe for like, what? The past week? so…”

“So, it’s my fault now?” Robbe smirked at him. 

“Hmm,” he agreed jokingly, taking a bite of his cookie. “What about you, though?” he suddenly asked. 

Robbe was thrown, now, the question almost bewildering him. 

“What  _ about  _ me?”

“You don’t have anything you’re even mildly obsessed with?” Sander shrugged. He was looking at him with expectant eyes and there was nothing that Robbe could think of to say. His brain was absolutely a clean slate, completely wiped of memories of anything and everything he had ever enjoyed in life and there was some moderate concern of that fact flowing within him. 

“Not at the moment, no.” he finally answered. 

“TV shows? Movies? Books?” Sander asked casually as he took another cookie. Robbe still shook his head, his brown curls shaking with him. “Fuck, Robbe, how are you even living?”he chuckled.

“I’m not,” said Robbe. “I’m just trying to study and pay rent. I’m studying bio and it’s killing me,” he stared off, fixating on some distant part of the floor, a look every student knew all too well. Sander shifted, his torso turning towards him in some playfully challenging and smug way. His eyes were definitely sparkling again and Robbe wasn’t sure what he’d do if that spark was ever lost. It would be like stars dying in a blackened universe. 

“Oh, so you’re like,  _ smart _ ?” Sander teased. 

“No,” Robbe gave a shy smile, flickering his eyes to the ceiling. “ I don’t know. I’m everything in between and nothing all at once.”

“Oooo mysterious,” Sander widened his eyes, an eyebrow raising in jest. 

Now, Robbe was standing there thinking about how untrue that was. There was nothing mysterious about him, nothing out of the ordinary or worth discovering. And if there was, that was for Robbe himself to know and to subconsciously keep to himself. Letting others -strangers- know about him was hard. It was hard for everybody he supposed, but even as he got to know people, something stopped him from releasing even a sliver of the deepest parts that hid within him. 

“Trust me, I’m really not all that special,” he looked down, his lips twitching into a weak smile. 

“I think you are,” he heard Sander’s awestruck voice.

And then, looking up at him with a hint of surprise at how fast and breathtakingly soft he had said that, he thought that maybe...for him, he could try. 

“You could be my muse,” Sander’s lips curved delicately. “I’m at the Royal Academy of Arts and you could be the Hermione Farthingale to my David Bowie,” he said referencing the documentary. 

“‘Royal Academy’, fuck that’s fancy,” Robbe teased in return. 

“See, you’re smart and I’m fancy, it’s already a dynamic duo. Actually maybe not, Hermione broke his heart,” he reconsidered. 

Robbe let out a laugh at that. Sander continued, chuckling. 

“It’s okay, I’ve been broken, too. It’s why I’m not really looking for any relationships or anything right now.”

That’s when Robbe felt something inside of him wilt. That strange feeling in his bones just withered away back inside. He wasn’t even sure why, but he was feeling disappointed and it struck him in his chest in some slight stinging sensation that he tried to ignore.  _ It doesn’t matter, Robbe, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter. You never get close to anyone anyway.  _ It was now some part of him consoling him and comforting him, reminding him of the walls he’d created, the protection that he’d made for himself.

The same protection Sander was probably building for himself, too. 

_ You can’t blame him _ . Because that would be hypocritical. Sander had a reason for it, Robbe was just...stubborn. 

He choked back the hurt and gave him the best smile he could give. 

“Sounds wise,” he teased. 

But then Sander looked at him and while Robbe thought his eyes would be glazed over, cold as the mountain snow or deep jaded greens or hollowed out icicles, they weren’t. They were filled with warmth and that same sparkling he would never tire of. 

“I could use a friend, though,” said Sander. 

And now Robbe was ready to accept it because maybe it was easier that way. If he was a friend, he could keep a distance. He wouldn’t have to confront the feelings flaring up inside of him and it would be fine. It was fine. 

“Me, too,” Robbe finally smiled at him. 

He wouldn’t have to deal with that mortifying ordeal of being known as much anyway. 

Right?

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to plan for this fic, i really did but i think it stressed me out more so we're just going with the flow for now  
> Thanks for reading! And let me know what you think or if i should even continue this? <3333
> 
> skam tumblr: @sonderthroughthestreets


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